


Progression

by FaultyParagon



Series: Laws of Attraction-Verse Fics [17]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Adventure, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Depressed Qrow Branwen, Depression, Drama, Drunk Qrow Branwen, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Guilt, Heartache, Laws of Attraction-verse, Post-Volume 3 (RWBY), Protective Qrow Branwen, Qrow Branwen Needs a Hug, Qrow Branwen-centric, Team as Family, Vignette, Volume 4 (RWBY), Volume 5 (RWBY), Volume 6 (RWBY), he is just having a rough ol' time now isn't he, qrow's garbage roadtrip begins, stay tuned to watch his depressive spirals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27543643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaultyParagon/pseuds/FaultyParagon
Summary: He tells them that they need to keep moving forward, no matter what. Whether it's on foot, in the air, in his heart- he insists, and insists, and pushes them all to the breaking point, no matter how much they long to justbreathe.They need to keep going. Qrow knows that fact better than anyone. After all, if they ever stop... he'll be the one crushed underfoot.-a retelling of post V3-V6 through Qrow's POV, running alongside my fic 'What We Call Home'. You don't need to read that first to understand this fic since they're both canon-compliant.
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie, Qrow Branwen & Everyone, Qrow Branwen & Oscar Pine, Qrow Branwen & Ozpin, Qrow Branwen & Raven Branwen, Qrow Branwen & Raven Branwen & Summer Rose & Taiyang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen & Ruby Rose & Yang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen & Taiyang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen & Team RNJR, Qrow Branwen & Team RNJR & Team RWBY, Qrow Branwen & Team RWBY
Series: Laws of Attraction-Verse Fics [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1448071
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up haunted by this idea, and so I guess it's finally time to set it loose after over a year of wondering when I was going to do a Qrow V6 retelling. Well... here it is- my take on Qrow's journey between post V3-the end of V6.
> 
> This is technically set in the same universe as my [Laws of Attraction](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1448071) series, running alongside [What We Call Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171977). However, you do not technically need to read any of those fics first in order to understand this one, since they are all canon-compliant. The only thing which differs are slight changes to timelines, since in my series I reduced the amount of time Ruby is in Patch before beginning V4. It was intentional, so don't @ me plz.

Once upon a time, Qrow Branwen arrived at the doorstep of a small cottage in Patch, finding something out of a fairy tale awaiting him. The flowers which bloomed in the plot running alongside the house were perfectly maintained, without a weed to be seen amidst breathtaking, vibrant colour. The trellis leaning up against the side of the building housed a lovely ivy, the greenery the perfect contrast to the warm colour of the wooden walls, the deep chestnut providing a sense of warmth just at the mere sight of it. The sun’s rays shone at an angle into windows framed by clear windowpanes and gauzy white curtains, the innocence of the scene enough to fill anyone with a sense of wonder and tranquility.

And inside, Qrow found his family: his twin sister, his brother-in-law, and his best friend. Then came his nieces, his tiny bundles of chaotic joy and love and pride, giving him the perfect reason to keep fighting for what he believed: their futures. He had no idea when they would win this war against the shadows which threatened to corrupt the world irrevocably, but he dreamed within those four walls of that little cottage that the battle would end before his little girls were grown, for Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose were meant to _smile,_ not to fight. Not to despair.

It was with this simple wish that he held in his pain and suffering year after year, mission after mission, breath after breath; he kept his chin held up high, knowing that he had the most powerful person on the planet on his side to help fight this war. His meaningless life, sewn together by circumstance and misfortune and suffering, would be used fully in order to ensure his girls would keep smiling until they were old. He would do anything to make that peaceful future a reality.

And as the years wore on, he dreamed often of his home in Patch- of the little cottage he had grown to love and cherish with all his heart. He dreamed of it almost every night, as if even in his sleep, his mind and heart prayed to one day be able to return home without guilt, without shame- that one day, he would find that this idyllic life was no longer a dream.

Today is not that day.

He does not question it anymore; he simply closes his eyes and accepts the embrace, mutely placing the item in his hands upon the kitchen table in favour of grabbing onto the trembling body in his arms, those once-powerful shoulders tiny in their fear. He is used to feeling this body quake in his touch, for too many times has he been the one to comfort this man amidst the horrors they have lived through.

He still remembers how it felt to watch Taiyang realize that he had been abandoned by Raven. He still remembers how it felt to watch Taiyang realize that the seat at the table which would always belong to Summer would remain empty forever. He still remembers it all, and he does not blame Taiyang for just how cold this cottage has become.

Life is not a fairy tale. He knows this.

“It could’ve been them, Qrow,” Taiyang whispers against his shoulder. “It could’ve been Ruby and Yang- it nearly _was_ them, goddammit, _Qrow-_ “

Qrow’s mouth is dry, his heart hollow. He wonders mutely whether he simply needs a drink, or whether this is just life now- this constant state of yearning, of emptiness, of not knowing where to put this energy thrumming underneath his skin like an infestation which refuses to let him rest. His fingers twitch against Taiyang’s back. He does not pull away. “They knew that this is the life they chose when they signed up to be Huntresses, Tai.”

“They didn’t choose to fight in this war! They don’t even know what’s going on!” the blond protests, his voice thick with emotion, his frustration and heartache palpable, hanging heavy in the air. “And now Ruby’s- Yang’s _arm-“_

Qrow does not respond. There is little he can say that will not come across as frigid, for their little Ruby is still unconscious in her bedroom after turning the Grimm Dragon to stone with her eyes, and their firecracker Yang has not uttered a word since she awoke in her own bed, missing her arm- forever in pieces, never to be whole again.

What he longs to say most of all, however, is that he is jealous of Taiyang. He is jealous of the blond’s open heartache, of the way those blond brows crease with unabashed fear, his stricken guilt showing on every muscle, every hair; he is broken by the mere thought that he could have forever lost one, if not both, of his daughters the night of the Fall of Beacon, the horrifying events which have fractured the world seeming to have past eons ago, despite it only being a day since.

Qrow wants to weep the way Taiyang does- thick, fat droplets reside just behind his eyelids, but he does not know how to cry them out. He feels stifled and stiff, having spent far too many hours awake, sipping on his flask to provide him a scant amount of warmth between long, grueling flights as he makes his way from Beacon’s Grimm-infested campus to the shattered remains of the city of Vale, and then back to Patch to check up on his nieces.

He wants to weep. After all of his searching, the only things he had found of note were a few pieces of unmistakeable golden armour, and the object which now sits on the table behind him.

_What do I do now, Oz?_

He knows the answer; he needs to guard Ozpin’s cane. He needs to go to Leonardo Lionheart in Haven, send Glynda to Vacuo so she can prepare Shade for the inevitable assault; he needs to ensure James is emotionally ready to guard Atlas from Salem’s attack, for if just one other nation falls, the world will lose hope.

He knows these things logically.

It doesn’t make the fact that he had failed, that the Fall Maiden was now somewhere unknown, lost to the world- that little Pyrrha Nikos has become naught but a martyr for a cause no one knows of- any easier to digest.

He wants to drink. There is no time.

“You say they chose to be here, but they don’t know anything, Qrow,” Taiyang coughs into his shoulder, his fingers tightening in Qrow’s blazer. “What if- what if they want to join the fight?”

“Let’s worry about getting them back on their feet first. Then, they can choose.”

“But they _shouldn’t have to!_ They’re children!” Softer, the blond whispers, “Pyrrha shouldn’t have had to choose. Ruby- Ruby’s going to _break_ when she finds out. She’s never lost a friend like this before, Qrow.” He sighs, haggard as he hiccups. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her go to Beacon.”

“You know just as well as I do that Ruby would be caught in it eventually.” He finally draws away, looking into Taiyang’s eyes, grabbing his brother by the shoulders. “You know they would’ve come for her eventually.”

“…yeah.” Taiyang does not refute this. He knows. Ruby has silver eyes. She shall never be safe.

Sighing, Qrow leans forward, pressing his forehead against Taiyang’s. It has been many years since he’s done this- not since Summer’s passing has he allowed himself to be so vulnerable to the blond. And yet, as his throat itches for something to quench his thirst- as his heart aches, knowing that his girls will never be the same again- he knows this is the best time to say it.

“Live, Tai,” he breathes. “You need to stay here and live. If the girls leave, I’ll protect them out there. You need to stay here, for _them_.”

“…promise me.”

“Always.”

Qrow will protect his girls whenever their father cannot. That is his vow- it has been his vow since the day his nieces were born, carved indelibly into his heart. That vow is what stitches the fractured, broken pieces of his heart together, keeping him even remotely whole.

The girls are alive. He shall do his best to keep it that way.

His hand reaches back, grabbing onto Ozpin’s cane. _But first, I need to find you._ His fingers wrap around the trigger of Long Memory, desperate to feel the lingering presence of the man who had given Qrow’s life meaning over twenty years earlier. Without Ozpin, he is naught but a broken, useless tool.

Taiyang finally steps away, wiping his cheeks and giving Qrow a weak, warbling smile before he smacks his face with the palms of his hands. The action leaves a reddish flush that is utterly unbecoming on the blond, but Taiyang seems to not mind; the man merely murmurs, “I’m going to check up on them.”

“Okay.” He grabs the cane, hooking it back onto his belt under his blazer.

Before he leaves the room, however, Taiyang calls, “And, Qrow?”

“Yeah, Tai?”

Taiyang’s eyes shimmer anew, his lip wobbling, voice cracking. “You need to be safe, okay? I’ll be here.”

_Always._

Qrow smiles, nodding as he heads out of the house. The moment the cottage door closes behind him, his flask is in his hands, liquor pouring down his throat. It does not warm him up, although in his heart, he has always known it wouldn’t be enough.

_No wonder everyone always calls me a fool. I should know better by now. It won’t help._

He drinks anyways, and then, he is off. There is work to be done, even for a fool; whether or not he will be able to handle telling Pyrrha Nikos’ teammates that their friend, their _family,_ is dead, is a different story entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic really is going to be written more in vignette form of Qrow's POV- just individual chronological moments passing through his entire journey. If you would like every single detail of what occurs in V3-6, including all the necessary world-building, check out What We Call Home.

The package is heavy in Qrow’s hands. The metal itself is lightweight; even through layers of black fabric, Qrow can see hints of golden armour glinting as he carries this bundle through the busy, frenetic halls of the hospital. Its durability is impressive, considering how much he had managed to recover atop the crumbling remains of Beacon Tower.

To withstand the magic of the Fall Maiden, it must have been something special- just as its wearer had once been.

He gulps as he arrives at the aforementioned ward, immediately leaning on the wall, contenting himself to wait. There is no point in going ahead on his own, for he has no relationship with the children he is visiting that day; at most, they shall recognize him as Ruby and Yang’s uncle, but beyond that, he doubts they shall have any kind of trust in him.

It’s probably better that way, too. His fingers tighten around the bundle, wincing as the edges of metal dig into his palms. The pain is sobering, however- the perfect reminder that he has let someone else die before their time.

He is two gulps in from his flask, relishing in the momentary breath of fresh air automatically refilling his lungs with each swallow of whiskey, when he hears familiar footsteps click down the hall. “You really are always drinking,” Glynda murmurs.

Qrow pulls the flask away from his lips, capping it and tucking it back into his inner pocket. The woman standing before him looks, on the surface, to be every bit of calm he has come to expect from her after twenty years of fighting by her side. However, as his crimson eyes fall upon flat, soot-stained blonde locks escaping her normally-immaculate bun, her boots stained with mud and Grimm ash, her blouse yellowed from smoke after fighting off the constant fires consuming the town after the assault just a few days earlier, his heart sinks. Even Glynda, the most proper, reliable person in their team, is falling apart at the seams.

At least her stern expression never fades. “You managed to find all the pieces?” she says crisply, readjusting circular glasses upon the bridge of her nose.

“Every last one,” he replies wearily. “Whatever’s left, at least. C’mon. I don’t wanna draw this out.”

Her face darkens slightly. “Don’t talk like it’s a chore- it was my _student_ ,” she says hotly, her irritation clearly fighting to break free from her vice-like control.

He does not react, his eyes merely falling deadpan upon her fatigue, her annoyance- her heartbreak. His heart goes out to Glynda. She loves her students more than most would realize- he knows just how much it hurt for her to agree with putting the burden of becoming a Maiden onto young Pyrrha Nikos.

“If it wasn’t her,” he replies evenly, “it would’ve been my nieces. You know that.”

_I know how much it hurts._

Immediately, Glynda’s expression softens, brows furrowing, eyes falling to the floor. “…you’re correct. I… I apologize-“

“Nah, it’s fine,” he says with a sigh, finally pushing off the wall. “Let’s just get this done.”

She searches his face, then sighs as she realizes just how detached Qrow is from the situation. He does not fear her judgement; she is quick to understand just why he appears so unaffected by the fact that he currently carries the most precious, frightening burden of all.

He doesn’t have any tears left to shed- not right now. Not while the world is still crumbling. He shall cry another day.

 _At least Ruby is awake now._ She is not whole- broken like her sister, albeit in a different way- but she is alive. He knows she shall figure out how to sew herself back together eventually. Being conscious is a start.

Glynda straightens her shoulders, strengthening her resolve. “Agreed. Let’s go.”

So, the duo begin to march with purpose towards the correct hospital room. It is easy enough to find; _Ren_ is not exactly a common name on Sanus, so they are soon standing in front of the correct door, looking through the window to see a line of cubicles formed by curtains, built for those who need just a bit of rest. “He’s in here after being overworked?” Qrow asks quietly.

“His Semblance mutes emotions,” she explains numbly. “We’ve been getting him to mass-mute the emotions of crowds while setting up safe zones around Vale. No one else can nullify the negativity this chaos is causing, so he’s been busy.”

“The best and the worst kind of Semblance to have right now, huh,” he replies, voice dry and hoarse.

“Miss Valkyrie and Mr. Arc haven’t left his side, apparently,” Glynda replies, voice barely above a whisper. “I should’ve ensured they were taking breaks, but-“

Without a word, he balances the bundle in one hand and places the other on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “They’re looking up to you,” he reminds her.

She nods, lifting her chin. “Of course.” And with that, she opens the door and led the way, guiding Qrow forward.

The moment he actually sees the three teenagers huddled on the tiny hospital cot, however, he begins to doubt himself. “Glynda, should I really be here?” he murmurs, his eyes roving over the battered and bruised girl curled up next to the unconscious occupant of this cubicle, moving all the way to the blond boy hunched over in the bedside chair. Nora Valkyrie and Jaune Arc stare up at Glynda with at least a modicum of warmth, of recognition; however, as their eyes fall upon Qrow, distrust immediately crinkles their nose, furrows appearing between their brows. Qrow sighs, then adds to his colleague, “This isn’t my place.”

Glynda takes the parcel from his hands, her actions painful in their precision, in their tenderness. Placing it upon the end of Lie Ren’s bed, she explains, “We found this. It belongs to you now.” As she speaks, she approaches Jaune, brushing his matted hair back before laying her hand on his shoulder. “Know that I- _we-_ are so, so sorry for your loss... I wish we could convey to you just how much we regret not being there in time.”

Instantly, the children’s faces twist in alarm and dread, turning to stare at the mysterious bundle laying at the foot of Ren’s bed. Qrow feels his heart leap up into his chest as he watches Nora’s already-pale skill grow stark white, the gears in her head clearly providing her with the worst-case scenario- with the truth. He recognizes that look. He has worn it far too many times in the past- has seen it worn, time and time again, on the faces of the people he loves.

It isn’t fair, to be so young and to be going through this. It is never easy to be left behind.

He tucks his hands into his pockets, sighing, “We found it in the… in the wreckage after the Fall. When Ruby found out about this, she begged us to hand it off to you. We thought there may be family who’d want it, but the kiddo wouldn’t stop, so here we are.”

Glynda adds wearily, “You’re her team. You deserve it.”

Immediately, the blond reaches over to grab the bundle; Qrow’s hand shoots out on instinct, closing around his wrist, pulling him away. Calmly, he explains why they should not open it here- how Ren’s Semblance will just run out again if he can sense, even in his unconscious, exhausted state, that he needs to protect his teammates. If they are going to open it, they need to open it elsewhere, then calm down before they come back to him.

Jaune is the first to speak. “I’ll open it outside,” he says, hugging the package to his chest. His face twists in horror as the metal shifts, clinking underneath the fabric; even in the dim lights of the hospital, they can all see the golden shine peeking through the black cloth.

He knows what it is- the remains of their teammate’s armour, the only things left behind after her body was turned to ash.

Qrow does not stay to watch the rest of the exchange. His job is done; with that, he turns on his heel and walks outside. He refuses to watch the people his nieces love crumble.

He does not leave yet, however, merely stationing himself around the corner. Just as expected, Glynda appears in a few moments- they walk silently together, heading into the fire escape. He walks to the window, leaning his elbows against the windowsill, looking out at the ravaged, crumbling city beyond; the sky is painted grey from clouds and smoke, obscuring what used to be a breathtaking metropolis.

“They shouldn’t be going through this,” Glynda whispers behind him. He can hear her taking a seat on the steps, can hear the ragged breaths and muted hiccups that escape her lips as she fights to tamp down on her emotions.

“You’re right,” he says quietly, looking up into the distance. He cannot see Beacon. It is probably for the better. “But they are.”

_We have to keep going. We need to find Oz. We know where Salem is going to strike next- it’s only logical. We have to be ready._

He does not voice these thoughts as she struggles to compose herself, however. He understands, and he is happy to provide her what she needs: the presence, the companionship, of someone else who is sick of watching children like seventeen-year-old, bright-eyed, sweet little Pyrrha Nikos die for a war which they, as her guardians and protectors, should have ended long, long ago.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter, finally!
> 
> Also, I just started a silly little fancast, **The Good Beans** , where I ramble about media that makes me happy. Check out episode 1 [here!](https://anchor.fm/faulty-paragon/episodes/The-Good-Beans-Episode-1---Kingdom-Hearts-2-Eternal-Summer-Vacation-enjorh)

He has thought it before, and he will think of it again for years to come; he is undeniably grateful to Ozpin for having given him these powers of flight all of those many long years ago. It allows him access to Patch, after all, in a time when every other form of transport has all but been abandoned. There are no longer any ships daring to traverse the distance between Vale’s docks and Patch’s small harbour, for the strait between the isle and the mainland is rife with Grimm, teeming, monster-infested shallows growing more and more out of control with every waking day.

Qrow watches this all with a keen eye as he flies over choppy waters, spotting with a sick wave of nausea the long, spine-covered backs of Sea Feilongs roiling in the depths, white bone breaching seafoam harshly. It is horrendous, just how quickly the world has changed; none of it is surprising, though. Even though his body remains streamlined, cutting through the wind as he pumps his wings, flying his large corvid form over to that little cottage in Patch as fast as he can, he can undeniably sense the malice exuded for miles by the frozen, statuesque figure of the Grimm Wyvern still balanced precariously atop the remains of Beacon Tower.

 _Ruby,_ he thinks grimly, _you have no idea just how much you’ve saved- and doomed- this place._

He will never utter those words to her, though. She needs to keep her spirits up- after all, she is still recovering, still clinging onto whatever hope she can amidst all of the loss she has suffered so quickly.

By the time his body morphs back into his usual human form, his head is spinning, the heaviness of his refilled-bones always enough to knock him off-kilter for a few moments. He pays it no mind, stepping briskly forward despite the discomfort; the door of the cottage is unlocked as usual, for there is no fear of intruders in this area of Patch. The sense of an open invitation is always enough to send shivers of unease crawling up Qrow’s spine, anyways.

To his surprise, it is not just Taiyang’s voice he hears coming from the kitchen. There is no mistaking the quick cadence and painfully-precise words of Bartholomew Oobleck, the Huntsman and former professor at Beacon’s manner of speaking just as crisp and speedy as ever. His words rush out in a torrential rainfall, a stark contrast to Taiyang’s slow, deliberate speech. “The situation is dire,” Oobleck murmurs as Qrow sets down Harbinger by the wall at the entrance of the house. “We’ve established safe zones around the city, and more and more civilians are being transported away, but the death toll is enormous. While Signal remains safe from what I know, they are indeed having difficulties ensuring that their borders are being protected, for the students are still not yet quite ready to face the sheer mass of Grimm which has continued to flood Vale ever since the Grimm Dragon’s appearance in Beacon-“

“I’m not going back,” Taiyang cuts in smoothly. Qrow can hear the kettle whistle quietly, the sound of a porcelain cup sliding across wooden countertop. “I’m taking time away from Signal Academy and I intend to stay that way. I know they need more aid, but-“

“We could certainly use a Huntsman of your caliber, Tai,” Oobleck insists. “You know you would be a great asset-“

“I’m a father first.” Taiyang’s voice is stern, unyielding. “I may be a Huntsman, but there would be nothing to fight for if it weren’t for my girls.”

Oobleck sighs, his voice ringing hollowly through the first floor of the house. “That’s quite fair, Tai,” he says gently. “I respect that. You should be proud of your daughters- some of the best students I’ve ever had the pleasure to teach.”

“Lies. They both probably slept and texted constantly in your classes.”

“…you’re not wrong.”

The two men chuckle, weary but warm; Qrow smiles, watching them through the open passage to the kitchen. There are more lines on both of their faces than Qrow remembers. Perhaps it is naught but a trick of the light, but the fatigue which hangs upon their shoulders is palpable anyways. It has been a long few days for everyone, after all.

Finally, Taiyang seems to notice Qrow. His immediate alarm shifts automatically into relief, into gratitude. Silently, he waves Qrow over; without a word, Qrow obeys, skirting the dining table to give Taiyang a quick hug before he reaches out to Oobleck, shaking the other Huntsman’s hand in camaraderie. “Staying safe?”

“As much as one can hope,” Oobleck chuckles, wry exasperation forming upon his furrowed brow and the quirk of his lips.

Qrow nods, his own exhaustion mirrored in the eyes of these two men. Turning back to Taiyang, he says, “I’m going to check on the girls.”

The blond squeezes his shoulder gently. “Yang’s woken up. She’s… still processing.” While his words seem inoffensive, the weight of the words unspoken slice cleanly into Qrow’s heart.

“…I don’t doubt it.” Waving goodbye to the two, Qrow shoves his hands into his pockets and trudges upstairs.

Before he enters Yang’s room, he takes a moment to breathe- in, out, in, out. Then, after a swig of whiskey from his flask, he shakes his head, peeks at the lack of a light from underneath the door, and sighs, knocking on the door. “Yang? It’s me. Can I come in?”

No response. His lips press into a worried line, but he moves on anyways, opening up the door tentatively, silently so as to not startle whatever creature he may find inside.

A creature is certainly what he sees. He does not recognize this girl- limp, bedraggled hair, glassy eyes, sitting in a room that is completely barren of life or colour on the walls, completely stripped bare compared to the room he had seen just a week earlier.

Her bandages are no longer tinged red, though. For that, he is grateful.

“Hey there, firecracker,” he whispers, walking up to her carefully. She does not respond, so he merely sits upon the edge of the bed, leaning forward to press a kiss onto greasy blonde strands. “How’re you holding up?”

Wordlessly, she moves her right arm up, the stump which is left after her attack weak, thin.

He brushes her limp bangs out of her face and lifts her chin. “You can get through this, Yang,” he murmurs hoarsely. “I know you can. You’re going to be strong again.”

She meets his gaze, not a trace of hope in her puffy eyes. “…get out, Uncle Qrow.”

The order is clear, despite the grating tone of the hoarse voice which slips past cracking lips. He sighs, casting another quick glance around her oddly-bare room. “Okay. Get some rest.” Then, he leaves, closing the door behind him without another word.

He does not react when he finds a silent Ruby standing outside the door, watching him through rumpled bangs. He takes her shoulder and guides her to her own bedroom, closing the door and sitting her down onto her bed. “Any reason why your sister’s room looks empty now?” he asks quietly.

Her lip wobbles- barely enough to be noticeable, more than enough to shatter his heart. “She used to have a lot of red decorations, but she doesn’t like that colour much anymore,” she explains quietly.

Qrow notes this in his mind, understanding dawning clearly as he realizes that Ruby is no longer wearing her favourite mahogany pyjamas, and instead is dressed in bleak black and grey plaid. Yang’s assailant had been Adam Taurus, after all. He has seen the young man’s image on new reports and local bulletins, the visage of one of the head ringleaders of the terrorist attack executed upon Beacon having become engrained in everyone’s collective consciousness. The crimson of his hair, his blade, his clothes, the eyes upon his Grimm mask…

It’s too similar to someone else he knows Yang can never forget. Of course she has so few positive feelings about that hue.

“…it’s been rough, huh, kiddo?”

Ruby nods, large silver eyes filling to the brim with tears as she silently leans forward, placing her forehead upon his chest. He complies immediately, wrapping his arms around her tiny, quaking shoulders without hesitation; he cannot even imagine the heartache she must feel, knowing that even her cherished cape can no longer be worn within her older sister’s vicinity for fear of triggering the other’s fear. She trembles and whimpers against his chest, his lapel growing damp with tears and snot, but he does not pull away; he simply soothes her, brushing her hair, holding her close.

 _Well, Rae,_ he thinks absently as Ruby cries out her fears and worries towards her older sister upon his chest, _looks like you’re going to need to change your outfit if you want to see Yang anytime soon._

He knows his twin sister won’t do anything. Raven abandoned her daughter long ago. She is not going to start caring about protecting Yang any time soon- that is Taiyang and Qrow’s job now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context about Yang's trauma and recovery, check out my fic [Metal Hands, Patchwork Hearts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168725).

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and let me know what you think!


End file.
